Kiss Drabbles
by Pensulliwen
Summary: Done for a prompt meme, four drabbles centered around Lenalee kisses. Lenalee/Lavi, Lenalee/Kanda, Lenalee/Komui, and a bonus surprise. NOT all romantic kisses, though some are. No Leecest, promise. Ick.


**Kiss Drabbles**

_1) Lenalee/Lavi_

It's easy to slip into. Because she is lonely, worn and ragged from too many nights spent worrying, and he is thin and sickly and _there_.

"Lenalee..." He lies on the hospital bed with the air of a man who has forgotten what it is like to have the strength to sit up. The name is half a question, and she nods earnestly, leaning forward to wrap her arms around him as best she can. It feels like hugging a pile of bones— but he is warm, and it's something to hold onto.

"It's okay."

This is the only thing that is okay, now. So she has to believe it, even if this is never what it used to feel like. He is still in her grasp, before spindly fingers grasp at her back. She nudges his head with hers, finding a spot against the pillow to rest for a moment. It feels like she could drift to sleep just like that.

"Where-?"

No, don't ask that. Because she doesn't _know_, and she can't be worrying about that when he is finally here. Not when every other waking moment is spent wondering. It is with some distraction that she presses her lips against his cheek bone, almost a plea for him not to ask.

Then he is turning his head into the touch, a mumbled word escaping from between his lips before they are brushed against hers. Once, then again. Lingering the last time. This time it is Lenalee that remains still.

And it's easy to slip into, even if she knows that it isn't right.

* * *

_2) Lenalee/Kanda_

When she finally sees him again, holds him again, she thinks that she might never let go.

She barely recognizes him. His hair is wrong, his face too gaunt, his eyes too blank; there almost appear to be cracks in his very skin, and the mark on his chest was never that massive before. She hugs him gingerly, as if he might fall apart in her arms. He never appeared so fragile before.

But he lets her hold him. So she does, for seconds, then minutes, then always. And slowly she comes to accept that he is still far more solid than looks would suggest.

He tenses when this realization prompts her to brush her lips across his cheek. But he does not protest, so she repeats the action— over his jaw bone, nose, rising on tiptoes to press a kiss to his forehead. Anything to get a reaction, even if just telling her to stop.

Eventually, his arms come up to circle lowly around her back. And it feels like they have enough, even if they have both lost everything.

* * *

_3) Lenalee/Komui_

Komui remembers when she was small. When he would spend nearly an hour trying to tie her hair back in perfect little pigtails, Lenalee complaining that he was tugging too hard and he in turn apologizing for having rougher hands than their mother had with a kiss to the top of her head. He remembers picking up her tiny body and twirling her around, soft peals of laughter reaching his ears before he held her close and she would smother his face with tiny kisses.

She grew up fast. But for a time, she would still run into his arms after getting back from a mission and let him press a kiss to the crown of her head.

The war aged both of them. To his horror, Komui has actually found himself doing paperwork lately. Long nights in which he would give anything just to lay his head down and drift away from it all for a little while. But the Exorcists do not have that option. She does not have that option. So he works a little longer, because if he could just get through all of it and make the littlest bit of difference, maybe he could do _something_ to help them. To live up to his role and protect them like he had always meant to.

Lenalee has taken to bringing him coffee at odd hours of the night. He thanks her with a smile and as many dramatics as he can muster, even if despite how delicious her coffee is it only ever makes him feel ill these days.

He is swimming in and out of consciousness when she arrives with the tray and his signature mug. He gives her a sleepy smile, words of thanks spilling out without much thought. Then he is waking up to the weight of something being put on his back- a quilt, he registers through the haze.

He blinks, once, then twice, listening to the quiet tap of heeled shoes moving across the floor. They stop next to him, and he looks up in time to see Lenalee bending toward him. She presses her lips to his cheek with a light smack and then makes her way to the door, turning the light off on her way out.

"Good night, Brother."

* * *

_4) Lenalee/brownies (yes, this was requested)_

The idea comes to her on a particularly dull day. While Lenalee has nursed a grudge against brownies since the fateful Christmas party, in the end her chocolate craving trumps that wariness. She travels to various markets to pick up all of the ingredients and takes over the kitchen for the day, ignoring Link's protests. Most everyone else is happy to let her have it in exchange for the promise of non-spiked brownies.

The baking process itself is uneventful; she measures everything just so, mixes with her head elsewhere, leans against the counter while waiting for the old fashioned stove to heat. But when she extracts the tray, suffering minimal burns, she is suddenly struck with an idea.

Smiling to herself, Lenalee grabs a knife, mapping out plans over the brownie's surface as it cools. Once she deems it ready, she begins cutting. Not simple squares, but a rudimentary circle, then another. One with spikes coming out from the top and a slight indent where a right eye might have been for an eye patch, another with a long sliver running down the side to serve as a ponytail. One with a lopsided hat, one with a braid. She dedicates more time than can really be justified to making a crumbly little indent on the upper left corner in the shape of a star on one of them, giggling to herself and at herself once the task is complete. She smiles down fondly at her handiwork, selecting her newest creation to attempt to pry out from the pan without completely destroying its form. She considers it in her hand for a moment, before brushing her lips against the small star.

"Lenalee?"

Before it has even really registered that Allen is standing at the door, Lenalee has crammed the entire brownie in her mouth, leaving no evidence.


End file.
